


but when i wake up i see you, with me

by melodiousmadrigals



Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, angst but then fluff, happy ending!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodiousmadrigals/pseuds/melodiousmadrigals
Summary: Nightmares have a way of getting under your skin and then lingering. There's one for Diana that's always worse than the rest.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	but when i wake up i see you, with me

**Author's Note:**

> no beta we die valiantly 
> 
> title from billie eilish's everything i wanted 
> 
> It might be a quarantine, but I somehow still wrote this instead of sleeping. (Like 43 wips I need to be working on and what is this? A completely new fic, written start to finish last night, you ask? Why yes, because I have absolutely no self control.)

The morning is dark and rainy, the sort that begs you to stay in bed and relish the warmth just a little longer, but a warm glow is emanating from the next room. The bed is luxuriously warm, but the soft patter of rain demands someone to cuddle with, so Diana pads out to the study, where she finds Steve, intent on bringing him back to bed. 

He's sitting in the armchair, under the soft light, curled up like a cat, with a novel and a thick-knit blanket. 

"You've been awake awhile," she comments, noting the half-drunk mug of tea beside him.

"Couldn't sleep," he says, heaving a sigh. 

"Come back to bed." It's the perfect morning for it. It's a Saturday, she realizes. There's nowhere to be. They can take advantage of the fluffy duvet, and giggle like children, and kiss until they see stars. 

"Or you could just come here…" Steve tugs her forward a little, and she allows herself to unbalance and land in his lap, just like he planned. They're ever so close, like this, foreheads almost touching. It's just how she likes it. 

"Good morning," she whispers. 

"Yes, indeed it is," he whispers back, and then kisses her. It's like she's flying, like his kiss has made her weightless and maybe they'll just float away on a soft Parisian breeze. 

When her eyes flutter open, they're standing in the middle of the room, and she smiles lazily up at Steve, and she marvels at how lost she was in the kiss, that he maneuvered her here so easily. 

Edith Piaf is playing gently in the background, and Diana wonders how she didn't notice that before, because she _loves_ this song. But it's no matter, because Steve is swaying with her gently, turning circles across the worn rug, her favorite in their cozy little apartment. She laughs when he dips her back, and kisses him lightly when she's vertical again. 

"Come back to bed," she repeats softly. 

"You know I can't, Diana," he says, barely above a whisper, his brow slightly furrowed. "You know I can't stay." 

"What do you mean? We'll have breakfast. Pancakes, maybe." 

"It sounds so nice," says Steve, but there's a transparent sort of quality to him that wasn't there a moment ago, like he's fading. "I wish we had more ti—"

* * *

There's a crack of thunder and Diana shakes awake, ice running through her veins and dread balling in the pit of her stomach, and Steve's name on her lips. 

"Steve!" she screams again, when he doesn't appear. 

But the other side of the bed is cold, barely disturbed from her sleep, and there is no Steve to be found. 

" _No, no, no, no,_ " she chants. "Please, no." 

The dream is fading and the reality that is left over is sinking in: Steve is gone. Has been gone for decades, and isn't returning. She used to have this sort of dream, right after he died. 

Imagining he was there, imagining he loved her, and they were happy. 

She hasn't had one in a while, but it's no less devastating. She can feel his loss, acutely, in her gut; it feels like when she lost him the first time. The wave of fresh pain is unbearable, even moreso after such a rosy dream—

She heaves a sob. She can't help it; she's alone again in a cold apartment. There's no one to see her break down, no one to judge her for crying except for herself. 

She _sobs._

If only she could just hold him one more time, if only she could tell him how loved he was, instead of the way she let him run off to his death, thinking maybe she still hated everything he stood for…

A fresh wave of tears overtakes her, and she knows she's shaking uncontrollably, but it really doesn't matter, does it—

"Diana." 

There's someone at the door, someone who's going to witness her brokenness, and she can't possibly bear it—

"Diana!" 

* * *

She jolts up, still sobbing, directly into strong, familiar arms and a warm embrace. 

"Hey, shh; it's okay, Love, I've got you. I've got you." 

She buries her face in his chest, soaking in his solid feel, his familiar scent, even as she struggles to control her breathing. 

"You're going to be okay, Diana. I've got you." 

But he's said that before in dreams, before he's slipped out of her reach, and she dissolves into a fresh wave of tears. 

He starts tracing circles into her back, whispers that she's okay, she's safe, it was only a dream. 

"But how do I know that this is real?" she gasps, still shaking. "That you are real?" 

He cups her face in his hands ever so gently, swipes a thumb across her cheekbone to blot away a tear. "Look at me," he requests softly, and she does, eyes finally meeting his. "I'm right here, Diana, and I'm not going anywhere." 

He drops one hand from her face, but it's just to tug her hand up, place it on his chest. "Do you feel that? Count the beats. I'm right here." He leans his forehead against hers, breathes her in and lets her do the same. 

She's still breathing unsteadily, shaking. "You were there, and then you faded away from me, and I woke up, and it wasn't ever real. You were still dead," she recounts, hiccuping to hold back more tears. 

"It was a nightmare, Diana." He leans around her, toward the bedside table, and she scrambles to keep him close, keep him pressed against her. He lets her, and then pulls her into his lap as he shifts again to find what he's looking for. 

"The nightmares can trick you, Diana, but you told me they cannot cross another god's power." Carefully, ever so delicately, he places the edge of the golden lasso in her hand, and then winds it several times around his wrist. It flares to life, bathing the room in a golden glow and emiting warmth. "I swear to you, Diana, that I am Steve Trevor, that I am here, that I am as real as any of us can hope to be, and that I have no intention of being parted from you." 

She hugs him tightly, certain she's back in reality now. "I lost you again, in the dream. I don't think I could do it for real, again." Already, she can feel some of the paralysis fading away, but she knows the familiar ache will linger a while, remind her what she stands to lose. 

"You won't," he breathes. "You won't." 

She leans up and catches his lips with hers. He lets her kiss him, kisses her back to affirm that he's real and hers and alive. _I love you,_ she whispers, over and over between kisses. They stay like that awhile, pressed against each other, until Diana's breathing has evened and her heart rate is normal. 

Eventually, Steve gathers her up and slides them back down the bed, tugging the duvet back over them. He pulls her close, and tangles their legs together as she settles her head on his chest, where she can feel the thrum of his heartbeat, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. 

"I love you, Diana," he whispers into her hair. 

"I love you, too," she says softly. There's a pause, and she'd think maybe he's fallen asleep, but for the way he's still rubbing her back soothingly. 

"Steve," she whispers, "be here when I wake up." 

"Promise," he says. 

The cresting light of dawn finds them still wrapped up together, and even before Diana's eyes open, she knows he's still there, with her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a kudos or comment if you're so inclined :+)


End file.
